Earthly
by adele4
Summary: Spoilers for Season One. Merlin/Arthur. Needing to know if he can trust him, Merlin comes to Arthur with a grave revelation. Arthur fails to be appropriately surprised. Or grave.
1. one

_Set right after episode 13, contains spoilers, obviously._

_Disclaimer__: I don't own BBC's Merlin, and I just write this for fun and make no profit with it._

* * *

earthly

* * *

It was on his way back from the island that he made the decision. What Nimue had said had shaken him, the way she, the way the dragon expected him to be on their side, against – Uther, of course, but Nimue had targeted Arthur as well, and the dragon...

The dragon had been working only for its own release this whole time: for all he knew, now, all his talk of destiny had been nothing but a trick, a way to throw him into Arthur's path and indebt them both to it, so Arthur would not fear magic, and release it when the time came.

Maybe it wasn't as bad as that, and the dragon hadn't lied even as it kept its own interest at heart, but his trust was shattered, and he no longer had a guide. He was alone now, and he needed to know, now that that was all that was left, that he and Arthur had _something_, if not a destiny. That Arthur truly was his friend. That Arthur...

The longer he stayed quiet, the more likely it became for Arthur to find out from someone else. It could be during a magical fight where he'd see, _see_ that he wanted nothing but help him; but it might be by the words of one of these who called themselves his kin, and this might damn him one day, but he wanted at least Arthur not to believe what they might say.

They were silent during their ride back; Gaius threw him strange, worried looks from time to time, but didn't speak either; the closer they came to Camelot, the more his resolve weakened: he could think of a thousand reasons, now, why telling Arthur was a bad idea. What of Gaius? What if he didn't manage to convince Arthur he had known nothing? And his mother? And Arthur himself, if he was sent away or died, and could no longer protect him? Or even – what if he agreed to keep his secret, to commit treason for him? Wasn't his wish to talk selfish?

When they passed the gate, late in the evening, he was still fighting with his decision.

* * *

He found Gwen by his mother's bed, looking tired but delighted.

"She's better," she whispered quietly, when Merlin slowly approached, all cautious tenderness; he reached to touch her face, then lowered his hand, not wanting to wake her. Gaius entered quietly behind them. "Prince Arthur said he wants to see you when you come back."

"Arthur?" Merlin jumped, only now remembering that he hadn't told anyone, even Gwen, when he left, and that she had come and sat by his mother's side by her own. Gwen nodded. "Thank you for – being here," he said quietly. "I – "

"It's all right." She smiled. "I'll go now, I promised the Lady Morgana I'd tell her when you're back." Merlin stared at her. "You should go see Arthur," she added.

* * *

So he did. The truth was, he would have put off even meeting Arthur as long as he could if given the choice, so he wouldn't have to stand by – to make his decision too soon, but it was just like Arthur to rob him of that chance.

He found Arthur still sitting on his chair where he'd left him, sipping a drink, and was so nervous he almost missed the relief that flooded over his face.

"There you are," Arthur said, when he entered, and did nothing but stare at him.

Merlin carefully evaded his gaze.

"You... summoned me?" he said, doing his best to keep his voice neutral, and wishing, maybe for the first time, that he would have bothered learning that particular tone: it was decidedly useful, when one was a servant, but he'd never truly gotten around to seeing himself as such.

"Yes," said Arthur, still staring, then blinking as if chasing a thought away. "I need you to..."

There was a short pause, which was remarkable enough, because even if Arthur had clearly called him for no practical reason at all (because apparently, when he was worried for someone, like Gwen, like Morgana, he had _them_ come to _him_ to check on them), it still wasn't like him to be at a loss for a ridiculous task that needed to be done this very minute, in the middle of the night.

"Uh – wait," he said, and later he was going to wonder how he could have let this decision be made by the fact he wanted to avoid whatever stupid chore Arthur was about to throw at him. Arthur narrowed his eyes in displeasure at being interrupted, but he did wait and listen. "There's something I need to tell you." He paused, almost hoped the prince would interrupt him, but Arthur had chosen this very moment to be creepily attentive. "There's something... I've kept from you, this whole time. From everyone," he added, with a little more haste than advisable.

Arthur sighed, put his glass down, and stood up.

"There's really no need, Merlin," he said, and walked up to him.

"Er," said Merlin, fidgeting: there was something decidedly predatory in the way Arthur was stalking up to him. "I think –"

"It's all right," Arthur added, confidently, and stepped even closer, so that he almost touched him, and Merlin could feel his body's heat. "I _know_."

Merlin's mouth dropped open.

"You – what – how," he managed, with great effort.

"You were a bit obvious," Arthur said easily, and looked really smug.

"I – " Merlin began, and then Arthur kissed him. Thoroughly.

Merlin's thoughts got a little muddled at that point, because a good part of his brain was taken up by concentrating on Arthur's lips and Arthur's tongue and Arthur's mouth, and nothing had ever needed or deserved so much attention, and then Arthur drew back, hands Merlin hadn't even consciously noticed moving still resting on his backside and entangled in his hair, and raised his eyebrows at him questioningly. He was – grinning, not quite smiling, but close.

This gave Merlin a moment to think he really would rather not have gotten: he thought that this might make Arthur even angrier once he told him, and how he'd meant to come here with a clear resolution, and how Arthur was going to be even more unbearably self-important if he let him think that he was confessing he'd been pining for him for ages (which was true, admittedly, more so than Merlin had realised himself until this very moment, but that only made it worse), but then Arthur kissed him again, and he decided to worry about all that later.

* * *

He awoke from a half-dozing state, on his stomach in Arthur's bed, where they had ended up, eventually; Arthur was leaning on his side, lightly tracing over a bruise from one of their sparring sessions with a fascination that made Merlin seriously wonder about the real reason behind these: he was going to have to talk to Arthur about that, but maybe he'd wait until the whole him being hopelessly smitten and him being a sorcerer had blown over.

He glanced over at the prince, then looked back down.

"That – wasn't actually what I meant to tell you," he finally admitted.

Arthur's hand paused on his side, and from the corner of his eyes, Merlin could see him tense.

"No?" he asked; he sounded annoyed, and Merlin made a mental note to tell him that this didn't mean that wasn't true as well. Sometimes.

"I – " He rested his head on the side, so he could look at Arthur, then closed his eyes, because all things considered, he couldn't deal with it; he was feeling warm and comfortable and content, and it was hard to really believe his next words might shatter all this. "I tried to tell you before, but I never – and I swear, I never used it for anything but to help you, I'd never – "

"Merlin," Arthur snapped, impatient, hand tensing.

Merlin glanced back up and sighed deeply.

"I have magic," he said. "I'm a sorcerer."

There was a pause. Arthur's face was oddly blank, and then a strange, found smile appeared on the corner of his lips, and Merlin was about to ask him if he had even heard him, because he couldn't quite see how this could be in reaction to what he'd told him, when Arthur said, in a definite kind of tone:

"You're not."

"I – what? Yes I am!"

He couldn't believe he'd have to _convince_ Arthur of this; and anyway, was the prince smirking?

"You can't even remember simple messages, you couldn't hunt down a _deer_ if your life depended on it, let alone a mystical beast. There's no way anyone would believe you're a sorcerer, even less one powerful and skilled enough to defeat the questing beast." Arthur was looking very self-satisfied. "It was all me."

Merlin stared at him. And then stared some more.

"You," he eventually sputtered out, and sat up, and as realisation dawned, he wasn't sure whether he wanted to kiss Arthur or hit him. "You knew – "

"That's what I told you," said Arthur, looking up at him, from where he was still lying, naked, looking very relaxed, still with the insufferable grin on his face, but something soft in his eyes.

"How _long?_"

"There's no way you could have stood a chance in a fight with me without the use of dark, forbidden arts," Arthur said grandly. "Not that you did, as if was," he added, in an afterthought, and resumed his exploration of Merlin's battle bruises, this time with the tip his lips, starting right over Merlin's knee.

Merlin squirmed slightly under the tickling contact and stared at Arthur's bent head in disbelief: was he telling him that since _the very first day!?..._

"You're lying," he said flatly. Arthur briefly paused to glance up at him and narrowed his eyes at him.

"Any other important confessions you have to make?" he just asked, sharply, and Merlin thought that Arthur might not have been sure until the very moment he'd told him, and it was perfectly possible that he was _never_ going to know; and also, that somehow Arthur managed to be a prat even when he was being nice, and that he probably wasn't going to have him executed, or even exiled or put under constant surveillance, and things didn't look all that bad, especially when Arthur stopped lightly circling his bruises, and moved to seriously licking and kissing up his upper tight..

"I – actually," Merlin began, uncomfortably, because technically, there were.

"Is there a reason," said Arthur, who was looking slightly irritated ever since Merlin had accused him of lying, "that I absolutely have to know before...?"

"Before w –" Arthur moved to push himself him up against his hip in a way that could not be good for his injured arm, and pointedly moved closer in direction of his groin. "Oh. No. I don't think so."


	2. two

_AN: I didn't think I'd continue this, but here I am; I ought to warn that this bit is a little darker than the first one (content-wise, not tone-wise), and it probably won't be continued after that._

* * *

aftermath

* * *

All in all, the important confession of what he was had gone over well: Arthur got an occasion to be insufferably smug, but he wasn't going to be executed, and he got laid. And Arthur was insufferably smug _anyway_, so it was definitely a net win.

The explosion came later.

He had expected the complete tale of the druid boy's rescue not to go over well, and it turned out he'd been right for all the wrong reasons; Arthur took the part where he choose to save someone who might cause his death one day really well. Yet Arthur had been furious, and it had been terrifying: Merlin had been prepared for losing him, when he'd decided to tell him about his magic, insofar as he could ever be prepared for something as life-shattering; he no longer was, then.

He'd been wrong to be afraid there, too: Arthur seemed shocked when he became aware of his fear that this was the end of their friendship and their love: at his worse, he hadn't even considered the possibility.

And then, _then_ the really bad part started, and this one he would never have predicted, because apparently he still hadn't realised how much of a idiot Arthur clearly was. An idiot who really liked to kill things. There'd been a small respite while Arthur was waiting to heal, and spent it being more annoying than usual and telling Merlin _nothing_ of what he was planning until about half an hour before he decided to put the plan into action.

"This is a really bad idea," Merlin said to Arthur, who diligently ignored him in favour of making his sword spin in his hand experimentally, despite of the relatively reduced space between bed and wall where he was standing, before he laid it down, and held out his arms so Merlin could continue arming him. "Arthur!"

"I don't remember asking for you opinion," Arthur just snapped.

"Yes, I know," Merlin hissed – if he'd hoped that maybe the recent shift in their relationship would make him any less of a prat – well, alright, he'd never expected that, but it might have been nice all the same, and it wasn't the case. "But since you're doing this because of something I said, I think –"

"No," Arthur, who'd never been above really cheap shots in extreme situation, interrupted. "You don't."

Merlin fumbled with his arm-piece, only half on purpose; his hands were trembling nervously, and finally Arthur just stepped back and fixed them himself.

"You should at least think this through better. Do some research, ask Gaius if –"

"I know everything I need to – oh for God's sake, either help me or don't, stop fumbling around."

Merlin winced at the harsh tone, but didn't back away, and instead hurried with finishing with Arthur's armour: it always made him feel slightly better about him going into combat if he'd been able to do as much.

"You don't have to come," Arthur added, and took his sword. "But I am going."

"I don't –" Merlin stepped back again to glare at him. "You _know_ I'm not going to let you do this alone, you asshole!"

Arthur closed his eyes and sighed deeply, like he was the one who had to deal with a _clearly completely insane person._

"Come on, then."

"I – look, if you give me a little more time, I can research useful spells for this...?" Merlin tried hopefully, even as he positioned himself between Arthur and the door.

"Useful," Arthur said, in a carefully sceptic tone.

"You don't trust me?" Merlin asked, crossing his arms; his voice came out as a little more demanding than intended.

"Merlin," said Arthur, in a strange, almost kind voice that conjured up a taste of rat stew on his tongue and a gagging feeling in the back of his throat, "I believe what you said: you only ever tried to keep me safe." There was a fractional pause. "And this whole time, you've blindly been taking instructions from a creature that has every reason to hate me, so no, I _don't_ trust you, because clearly _you're a total idiot_. Now come, or get out of my way."

"I – it doesn't – it's your father it – " He broke off; the dragon had obvious reasons to hate Uther, and no obvious ones to hate Arthur as well – at least not until recently, where it'd been hoping Arthur would free it (and that change was his fault, he thought guiltily, and couldn't see another outcome). He didn't like bringing this up, because he was very worried about Arthur asking for details on the murder conspiracy against Uther the dragon had told him not to stop, and he had no desire whatsoever to ever bring up Morgana's role in that. "I haven't been blindly taking instructions."

"Oh, right, I forgot," Arthur snapped, and waved his sword in a way that made Merlin dig his back into the door, just in case. "I'm sorry. You only _almost_ left me to fight my own men alone by not showing up when I was counting on you!"

Oh God, Arthur was never going to let that one go, was he? He _had_ shown up in time, in the end!

"I already said I was sorry."

"You will be," Arthur said darkly, while glancing down at his blade, and Merlin really hoped the implication there wasn't on purpose (even if, honestly, the implicated would probably be nothing more sinister than "I am going to repeatedly hit you on the head with a heavy sword under the pretence of training", which Merlin occasionally found was worse than a quick, merciful stab through the heart). "When I get back from this..."

"Right, why don't you do something about it right now?"

"Merlin," said Arthur, turning to him, and looking almost cheerful. "I am not going to deal with an insubordinate servant when I could be slaying a dragon."

"That's it, isn't it? You just want to get to _slay a dragon!_"

"Yes," said Arthur, "that's what I've been saying for, I don't know, the whole morning?"

"Maybe the king kept it alive for a reason," Merlin tried, grabbing at straws: he had very little faith in Uther acting rationally when it came to magic.

"Of course he did," Arthur muttered, and pushed him aside; Merlin hastily ran after him when he left the room in fast, purposeful strides. "That's why I have to do this alone, and without him knowing," he added, in a whisper.

"But," Merlin whispered back, "can't you tell him –"

"– that I think it might be pushing hidden warlocks to rebellion?" (Merlin opened his mouth to protest, because what he'd been doing hardly counted as _rebellion_.) "Yes, I could, but he'll want to know where I got that idea."

"Maybe you should just tell him," Merlin just hissed angrily: the time since his confession had not been pleasant, in-between the yelling, the silent-treatment, and the sex, which, admittedly, _had_ been nice but only added to his general confusion about the current state of their relationship.

He bumped into Arthur when the latter stopped briskly, and turned to him with a furious expression on his face.

"_I will not_," he hissed, before turning back and walking off.

They were silent for a while, Merlin a few feet behind the prince, until they reached the cellars.

"Can't you at least wait a little? I'm really going to be more effective when if I have time to prepare, and Gaius said your arm..."

"Sh!" Arthur gestured at him to be quieter – at least that was what Merlin supposed the gesture meant. "My arm is fine." He whirled his sword around as if to prove this. "And the longer I wait, the more likely that my father asks why I increased the guard, or that the dragon finds someone else, now that it lost you."

"I could pretend –" Arthur cut that one off with an eyeroll. "Okay, but you could –"

"Merlin, dragons have been defeated by a single combatant before, and this one's..."

He interrupted himself, as if suddenly thinking of something.

"What?" asked Merlin, hopefully.

"You can't break its chains, can you?" Arthur asked.

"I – I don't know."

This earned him another deep, long-suffering sigh, because apparently he was supposed to be a mind-reader and know what Arthur was on about at all times.

"It never asked you to?" Arthur said through grit teeth.

"No. Why?"

"It's just – it's an intelligent creature, not an animal. It doesn't seem right."

Merlin needed a moment to process this, before he understood that Arthur thought it'd be _unfair_ to fight the dragon while it was chained down, because apparently, it being an ancient, powerful, magical, fire-breathing _dragon_ wasn't enough to level the playground in his mind. And he'd told Merlin that he didn't _have_ to come, how had he even survived this long?

"No. No, I'm sure I can't break its chains. And listen, even with –"

He stopped, thinking of something now that Arthur's remark made him see the dragon, for the first time in a while, as a sad creature imprisoned alone under the castle and not an evil manipulative bastard.

"Maybe you shouldn't do it," he explained, more because for some inexplicable reason, Uther had been of the opinion that it was a good idea to teach his son to deny all and any feelings of fear, even to himself, and about everyone thought it was a good idea to encourage the prince's already ridiculous pride (and really, Merlin himself wasn't so innocent about that one, even though he'd meant to be), and thus, talking to Arthur about the danger was never going to accomplish anything, and he had to find another way than anything else. "I'm angry at it, but it did save you – told me things I needed... Maybe this isn't right."

Arthur glared at him in a "I could be killing a dragon right now and you're trying to ruin it for me"-way, but maybe he was remembering the unicorn debacle, because he at least considered it.

"It tried to make you kill your mother," he remarked, sounding genuinely puzzled, as if worried Merlin might have forgotten about that (this was another story Merlin hadn't told in fullness, partly because he was afraid that Arthur would lock him up in a dungeon for the rest of his life to keep him from doing something of the sort again, but mostly because it was just _difficult_ to say "I almost killed my mother for you" to anyone – but he knew this much.)

Merlin stiffened and closed his eyes, and found it hard, for a moment, to remember that there were good reasons why this really wasn't such a good idea; he had never hated the bandits who attacked his village as much, would never have hated a nameless stranger who threatened his mother like this, but he had trusted the dragon...

His eyes flew back open when Arthur laid a hand on his shoulder, a little awkwardly.

"Alright," he finally said, and Arthur shot him a piercing look before letting go. "What exactly are you planning to do?"

For a moment, it looked like Arthur was going to plead his case further; then he just said:

"I hid a lance here a few days ago." He paused. "If you really need time, I'll risk waiting – you just have to promise me not to do anything to stop me, and not to tell anyone. That includes Gaius."

"No. I think I know what I can use," Merlin said, and tried to look very much like someone who was not mentally going through ways in which one could get two people out of a dragon's reach as fast as possible if things turned bad.

Arthur smiled at him.

"Good. You know you don't have –"

"Yes. But I want to. Are you sure your arm –"

"Yes." Arthur snapped, and they both smiled at each other and looked away. "I'm sorry, you know," Arthur then said, earnestly, and glanced up to find Merlin looking at him with confusion. "I know he was your friend."

Merlin smiled bitterly at that.

"I think he never really was."

Arthur shrugged.

"I've fought people I knew before, it's –" Arthur thought for a moment. "You usually don't have much time to think about it, actually." He straightened up briskly. "Let's go then."

Merlin followed when Arthur turned round and walked toward the entrance confidently, without looking back; the guards made way for the crown prince without question, and ignored his presence, and he quietly murmured spells of fire-protection into Arthur's direction on the whole way to the cave.

* * *

_AN: all feedback is appreciated!_


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